Chapter 82
Mireya
Play - Medicine by Daughter
Run away
The month went by too fast. A month without him, a month spent laughing and being happy with Milo and Edna at home.
I'm almost certain I passed my exams because of his absence.
And yet I also know that today it will all end, this bubble of happiness and peace feels too tight. Because he's coming back, my father and I don't want to see him. I received a text from him telling me to leave Milo with Edna again. The bubble explodes, and so does my heart.
I thought I was doing better. Some days I think I’m fine and then I realize I haven’t eaten and it’s already night again and all I had was cigarettes and a glass of vodka.
It's painful to think that everything that's happening is his fault and that I can't tell anyone.
How could I explain this? That the pain, the suffering, the self-doubt, the self-hatred, all that comes from the man who is the reason I even exist.
And yet I go anyway, after spending the evening with Blue, Milo, and Edna, after having breakfast Saturday morning as if everything were fine, I still head home.
I open the door and take a deep breath. His car is parked across the street, and another car is parked next to it. It's 7 p.m. when I finally agree to go back. And I hear voices, men. Several men, but I don't want to move. My body refuses to take a step forward.
I don’t want to go in. All I can think of is how easy it was to breathe before his text arrived. How strange it felt to spend days in the arms of someone I can’t have but still felt safer than this. A father is supposed to be the safest place a daughter ever knows.
Mine is still teaching me that safety exists somewhere else, somewhere far away from him.
For a terrible second, I wonder if happiness has always lived outside this house.
And then his voice cuts through this fantasy.
“Mireya!” I hear him call my name, but I can't move.
I know the rule: I must never see his friends; I need to bring beers to my father and wait in my room.
But instead I take out my phone and send a message to Damien.
Me: Can you take me to see the stars again?
I need one more wish, just one before I stop believing they can come true. And just as I turn around and open the door to leave, a hand wraps around my neck.
“Where are you going?”
It’s not my father. But I don’t want to turn around. I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll see the face attached to my nightmares.
Just one last wish…
His hand invades me, beneath my shirt, tracing the scar he left on my stomach, and then I hear it. His sinister laughter. “Your father’s calling you. Be a good girl and continue on to your room. I have a lot to teach you again.”
My phone vibrates at the same time. For a second, I’m still there, still trapped in a memory that can’t happen anymore.
Something shifts inside me. Anger. I don’t want to be weak.
I never was. I don’t want to keep letting him exist inside my head like he still owns a part of me.
My body moves before I can hesitate, I drive my elbow back, hitting him hard enough to make him loosen his grip, and push away from him, putting distance between us.
The door opens, and I leave.
I run into the woods surrounding the block and keep going without stopping, I run and run and run. I stop when my body finally understands that I’m safe now.
The words repeat in my head. Safe. Safe. Safe.
My lungs burn, my legs shake and my hands won’t stop trembling, but I keep moving, because stopping means giving up. Then I see the edge of a cliff, and right after it, headlights through the darkness.
His car. My knees give out and I hit the ground hard, but I can’t feel it.
I collapse forward, hands scraping the pavement. He’s on his knees instantly, hands on my shoulders.
“I wanted to see them,” I whisper. He looks at me confused and my voice cracks when I continue, “the stars, I just wanted to see them with you again, one more time.”
I ran away from him, for the first time I ran.
“Look at me,” Damien’s voice is calling me, but all I can do is stare at my hands.
I can see her on the cliff, she’s happy, proud almost as she looks back at me.
I did it, we escaped this time. “Please,” he begs, softer than ever.
And when I do, everything I’ve been holding together starts to fall apart.
I forget how to breathe for a moment. He’s here, and I’m not alone. My lungs try to catch up but every breath comes out fast, as if I’m still running away. A tear slips down my cheek and I try to talk, to say I’m okay, just take me away. Please. Now.
The anger, the memories, the fear, it all blends into an immense ball of concrete that presses down my chest and not a sound comes out of my mouth.
He doesn’t hesitate. He leans in and kisses me. I breathe him in. I finally feel like I can breathe again. “That's it, breathe me in…” he whispers before kissing me again.
My breath stutters, then shifts, syncing with his. I clung to him, hands gripping his jacket like he’s the only solid thing left.
“You’re doing great,” he murmurs against my lips. “That’s it. Stay here. With me.”
I don't feel my body. I focus on him. His warmth. His hands on my back, anchoring me to this. “You’re okay,” he whispers. “You’re here. I’ve got you.”
“Take me away,” I finally say and all he does is nod.
He grabs my hand, pulling me toward the car and when I sit there, my eyes close and I can finally rest.